The Good, The Bad, And The Blond
by Cueball
Summary: The Turks childhoods, through Tsengs eyes...


Before you stands a young boy, no more than five years old, he's dressed in a blue shirt, black trousers and a baseball cap, his eyes are covered by an overly large pair of glasses, there's insignias on his shirt, and a belt with various holsters, holding his pants up.

He's dressed like one of those cops, out of a Tv show.

You notice his tanned face, brown shaggy hair, and proud smile, as he lifts a revolver up, and fires a rubber dart at your head.

"Bang! Bang! Your dead mister!" He shout's at you excitedly, you can't help but smile at him, and play along, dramatically dropping to your knees, then falling forwards onto your chest, you let out a noise, that sounds vaguely like a frog drowning.

He comes closer to you, and pokes you, experimentally with his foot.

"Hey mister, you okay?" He asks as he crouches next to you.

You grin, make a gun out of your fingers, and aim it at him, before letting your thumb drop, mimicking the hammer on a handgun, and say; "Bang... Now your dead, kid..."

He copies what you did a minute ago, and falls to his knees, but instead of falling forwards, he stays there and holds his hands in front of himself, examining a red substance thats leaking from his chest, he wheezes out a rugged breathe, and falls backward, you act immediately, pulling out a handgun, and fire a volley of bullets at the direction of the shot, there's a crack, then a loud thud, as the assassin falls, you rush over to the kid, and examine the wound.

"Don't worry, I'll get you help." You say to the unconscious and dyeing boy.

Three hours later, and your sat in a waiting room of a dingy surgery... Mideel has never been a rich place, and it reflects it in here...

"Mr. Tseng... The boy you brought in, he's in a stable condition, we weren't able to remove the bullet... But you can see him now..." The nurse says to you from the hallway, you give a curt nod, stand up, and follow her into the patient's room.

He's lying in a bed, breathing with the help of a respirator, his eyes are barely open, you look at the nurse.

"He needs his rest, so if you've got something to say to him, try to make it short..." She says to you, before she turns and leaves, you look back to the boy.

You wonder what to say to him. Should you tell him that his parents are dead? Should you tell him that he's alive because the bullet missed his spine by a few millimeters? Or should you tell him why?

Why you were there...

Why they killed his parents...

Why they tried to kill him...

Why your still here...

You decide on none of them for the moment...

You'll tell him one day...

When he's old enough to understand, that his parents where killed because of what they knew.

And that they tried to kill him to make a point...

And you were here to protect them...

You'll find him a home...

A loving family...

A decent job...

Maybe he'd make a Turk one day...

Heh...

You'll look out for him, because you weren't their for him when he needed it...

"You... Got me... Good..." He manages to say, you smile faintly, and walk over to him...

"Shh... Just rest, I'll sort everything out..." You say, and brush a strand of his messy hair out of his face...

You remember reading the report... Your first official mission as a Turk... Protect the Tannin's, and their son from attack... You remember that you weren't told any of their forenames...

"What's your name kid?" You ask him as he slowly drifts into sleep...

"Rudolph..." He mutters, before he finally gives into the tiredness...

"Rudolph... Hn..." You say before you turn to leave, and stop at the door. "Goodnight Rude..."

Four weeks later and your in Junon, outside a large mansion, Rude's beside you.

"This is going to be your new home, be nice, the Jacques are very... Professional..."

"..." Rude doesn't reply, since you told him his parents were gone and wouldn't be coming back, he's been quite, too quite for a five year old to be... You wonder if making him live with a Mafia family is really such a good idea... But then you remember, Veld's ordered you to do this, the Jacques are friends of his and the Turks, and this kid is a form of payment...

You feel sorry for him, and hope he lives long enough to actually be able to join the Turks.

But that doesn't change anything right now, as he walks into the house, you give a slight wave as he looks back, then set of back to Headquarters...

Authors notes:

Short, compared to alot of my work, but I like it, ties in with my fic 'Pack Dogs', and will go over Reno and Elena's Childhood, at least, a major event in their childhood, told from Tseng's POV, in the second person, first attempt at writing in the second person POV, so please give opinions on it.

Veld, although only a short mention, is a real character, he's the leader of the Turks in Before Crisis. What inspired this fic? Well, I dunno really, I just felt like writing, and ended up with this.


End file.
